<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>HankCon: Why Me? by GamRGirlzUnite</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23570272">HankCon: Why Me?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GamRGirlzUnite/pseuds/GamRGirlzUnite'>GamRGirlzUnite</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Android Hank Anderson, Connor - Freeform, Connor Anderson, DBH, DBH Reverse AU, HK800 - Freeform, M/M, Postman - Freeform, Snow, Winter, boxed android, connor as a human, connor human, detroit become human - Freeform, excited connor, mailman, waiting on the mail</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:14:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,053</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23570272</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GamRGirlzUnite/pseuds/GamRGirlzUnite</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The human race has perfected itself! The short comings and limitations of mankind have been overcome and everything is perfect. Humans have evolved to newer heights, becoming faster, stronger, and more socially tolerant. Almost as if human's have become androids. After years of evolution and cultural development, humans have come to appreciate flaws, both physical and social. They've become a big hit in pop-culture and owning you're own "flawed android" is a sign of social status.</p>
<p>Connor is a human who is looking for Android Company when he stumbles upon an add for an HK800. Promptly ordering the Hank android, Connor can't wait to receive his package!</p>
<p>This is where our story begins...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hank Anderson &amp; Connor, Hank Anderson/Connor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>HankCon: Why Me?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor sat nervous and excited at the foot of the stairs that led up to the large and lavish home. There was a chill in the air that seemed to chime directly through the young man’s bones. The first morning snow twinkled with all the new days expectations, and seemed to wink at Connor with poise, as if to say, today was going to be something special. The faint sound of neighbor’s dogs barking and buses on their routes to pick up children for school were a compliment to the absence of sound belonging to the light falling snowflakes.</p>
<p>Connor’s breath became unsteady with anticipation as his deep brown eyes wandered from one end of the road to the other, uncertain of which route his postman was scheduled to take. “It’s expected delivery date is today, and the mail is set to arrive between 8:00 AM and 8:30 AM”. The nervous young man assured himself with a loud and clear voice, cutting though the peaceful ambiance surrounding him. With the flick of his wrist, he checked the time displayed in large digital numbers on his watch, shining sleek silver in the reflection of the snow’s captured sunlight. The time read “8:29 AM”.</p>
<p>“They’ve only got one minute left”. He sighed and retreated his arm back beneath his chest as he curled forward in response to the freezing breeze that phased through his body. Covering his wrist watch again with the fabric of his thick, blue coat, he huddled his shoulders around his neck in an attempt to condition himself to stay and wait a bit longer.</p>
<p>Soon the distant sound of a truck caught Connor’s attention. As he heard the crunch of snow and ice beneath heavy tires draw closer, he averted his attention to the source of the increasingly intruding noise. It was the local mail truck. Finally, it had come. The impatient young man’s immediate reaction was to roll up his sleeve, once again, to check his watch. “Two minutes late”. His attention fumbled quickly and awkwardly between his watch and the approaching mail truck in a rhythmic pattern. Finally deciding on a perspective, Connor bellowed “Ah, who cares?” as he flung his arm down to his side, forgetting and forgiving the late postal delivery in favor of the excitement of receiving his package. He sprinted toward the mail truck that was now parked in his driveway, with a smile on his face and a song in his heart.</p>
<p>“Hello!” He directed his enthusiasm at the postman exiting the truck. “I’m Connor, the one who lives here, and I’m expecting a package today”. Tilting his head down and cocking both eyebrows up, as if expecting an immediate reaction in his favor, Connor waited for an answer, “You’re in luck, kid”, the older man replied in a deep raspy voice, extending a clipboard out to meet Connor’s surprise.</p>
<p>Eyebrows raised and breath held steady, Connor slowly reached for the parchment offered to him. Removing it from the postman’s grip and acquiring it for his own, Connor stood, eyes wide, in ironic disbelief. He had anticipated and prepared for this very moment for three full weeks, yet the realization of this reality became difficult to conceive as he pulled a pen from his loose coat pocket.  </p>
<p>Signing his name in perfectly constructed print, Connor’s eyes trailed from his signature to the back compartment of the large steel framed mail truck, as the postman collected the clipboard, plying the signature forms from the young man’s nervously tight grip. Connor studied the postman’s stride as he made his way around to the rear of the vehicle. As the older man opened the doors to the storage compartment, The eager young man, filled with newly refreshed excitement followed his trail as a dog would his owner. Before he knew it, Connor found himself standing at the back of the truck in awe, gazing upon all of the undelivered packages ranging in size and shape. Before the postman could reach into the mess of undistributed mail, Connor questioned, “Which one is mine?” Attempting to hide his fresh annoyance with the young man’s lack of personal boundaries, the postman drew a smile and turned his head to meet Connor, who still stood shocked, glancing up at the packages, mouth gaping.    </p>
<p>“This large one in front belongs to you, son” The polite postman grimaced, pointing to a tall and wide brown box. Before he had a chance to utter another word, he was cut off by the clatter of Connor’s shoes against the metallic truck bed. Jumping up into the flurry of fragile packages, Connor was no longer able to keep his excitement under control. He wrapped his arms around the package, squirming and yelling, “Your Finally here!”, much to the dismay of the postman’s ever growing impatiences. “Be careful around the other packages!” the man warned, “Come on back down from there and I’ll help you move it.” he continued. Turning his head to the postman’s erupting shouts, Connor headed the warning, frantically searching his footing to be sure he hadn’t crushed any fragile packages in his overzealous display of affection for his new item. </p>
<p>After reassuring himself that he had not broken anything that didn’t belong to him, Connor made his way the the edge of the truck bed to meet the extended hand of the man who scolded him. “Let’s get you out of there” the postman slowly helped Connor down from his position in the truck, not from a place of need, but courtesy. Stepping to the ground Connor felt a bit of shame that he had intruded on another’s property in such a careless way. He didn’t attempt to hide his embarrassment, allowing the postman to clearly see his look of indignity and regret. “Hey, no harm done kid”. The forgiving man chuckled brashly in hopes to convey his indifference to the incident. “Now let’s get this parcel to your door”. He nodded his head at Connor, and and carefully hoisted himself into the back of the truck. Connor made an effort to brush off the shame and instead redirect his focus to his new package. Looking up at the postman who was beginning to lift the large box, he released a wide smile “Yeah, let’s get this to the house!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's hard for me to keep my attention on writing. Between the ADD, ASD and personal problems at home, sometimes a sentence can take up to 30 min to complete (that, and my sentences are so long that they look like run-ons from a distance) That being said, this is only chapter 1. I have no idea how long this story will be, but I'm hoping for at least 8 chapters. </p>
<p>Never use drafts or outlines, I just take it sentence by sentence.</p>
<p>Characters: </p>
<p>Connor: was imagined as a flawed human in a "flawless" human society. He's a bit of an outcast/ dork and he's lonely and looking forward to his new android's company. He chose HK800 because of the severely "flawed" nature of the android, and is low-key looking forward to showing him off.</p>
<p>The Postman: was created to be a nice contrast to Connor's personality in their interactions in this chapter. He is patient with Connor's enthusiasm and, while not enthused himself, can replicate Connor's feelings in a way that allows him to handle the slight annoyance felt from all of the excitement. He's an older man (imagined about 57 years) with a brash voice and a kind-hearted disposition.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>